Screw the Consequences
by RaversAnthem
Summary: Mostly movieverse. What's a poltergeist to do when his name is called and arrives only to find the one calling him doing something he never thought they'd do? BJxLyds.


A/N: I blame you guys for this. I was halfway asleep in bed when inspiration struck for this, and I couldn't go back to sleep until I at LEAST had this first bit written down in case I forgot. This is rated for SEX. It's got very little… story potential, if you get my drift. Also CURSING. If that's not for you, don't read. What can I say? I like get-together stories.

I don't own Beetlejuice or Lydia. I make no money. Please don't sue.

Beetlejuice was in his house when the first tingle raced like electricity down his spine, filling him with anticipation. He froze on the spot, his head rolling on his shoulders so that he eyes were aimed somewhere at the ceiling, but his gaze went past the material and settled somewhere deep in his fantasy world. Someone was calling his name. The slow grin that spread across his face could only be considered absolutely ominous in nature. It had been three years since his incident with the Deetz's. Three years stuck in the boring Neitherworld with its shit for alcohol. And now someone was calling his name once more. The shiver that ran down his spine held the promise of something great in it, even more so than usual. He didn't move a muscle as he waited. And waited. And waited.

Lydia groaned, she couldn't stop thinking of _Him_ tonight. What the hell was this about? What the hell what she thinking of Him for? It had been three years. He'd terrorized her family. He had tried to marry her when she was fourteen. He was old, insane, dirty, perverted, and dead, and for some reason Lydia found him incredibly attractive. Why? The reason baffled her. She'd thought about him a lot since that night, of course, but this recent infatuation was completely new and completely strange to her.

Which is why she found herself laying in her bed with the incredible urge to get-off while thinking about him. She was seventeen now, soon to be eighteen, she knew very well by now how the… plumbing worked. But why in the hell was her hot water running for him!? Lydia was an open person when it came to sex, but this was almost too much, even for her. She groaned into her pillow again and turned to lie on her back. Her window was wide open; it was the middle of summer and even in the thin silk nightgown she wore she was still sweltering in the heat. The window only helped a little. Her parents were currently taking a brief trip into the city for an art show Delia was interested in, and the Maitlands had retired upstairs. Lydia didn't blame them it was almost eleven at night.

Lydia shifted, trying to ease the aching want between her legs. God, why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it just be some embarrassing, out-of-reach pop star so she could get it out of her system like any normal person? She ran a hand over her silk clad stomach, imagining it was his hand…

What? No! Bad! She couldn't do that! He was sick, and twisted, and dangerous, and… dangerous; with a smile that hinted at all sorts of wild trouble that Lydia had every urge to get into with him. Her hands had minds of their own and Lydia couldn't help herself, she moaned aloud and arched her back, picturing that smug, asshole of a smile he had.

"Beetlejuice…" the name slipped from her lips as the barest of whispers. She didn't even know she'd said it, which was good for our friendly poltergeist because if she had she would have stopped right there and had her mouth surgically sewn shut. As it was she merely continued, slowly letting her mind wander further and further. Oh, what would he do if he could see her right now?

"_Fuck, Babes, didn't even wait for me to start? I gotta say, didn't know ya liked me so much."_

Lydia bit her lip, sliding the silk of the nightgown up her body, "Beetlejuice…" Maybe she just didn't care anymore, but his name fell from her lips again as her well-practised fingers slid over her body.

He'd almost given up hope when he felt that magical, wonderful pull as his name was called again. He smacked his lips in anticipation his momentary freeze broken. He surveyed the living room of his Roadhouse with luminous eyes that traced every familiar surface. He planned not to come back this time, not to give whoever was calling him a chance to put him back. He was going to get out and whoever the poor sap was that was calling his name was just going to have to play by his rules.

Why, then, did he feel so antsy? He found himself moving idly around the room, not really paying much attention to anything except to wait on his summons. He fidgeted, he preened, he paced, and he even absently tidied. That is, until he realized he was cleaning and instead overthrew his coffee table so that it shattered against the far wall…

She remembered the night she'd first seen him underneath the lamps at the model of the whorehouse, decked only in a robe. She considered what would have happened if she'd said his name there and then, if she hadn't waited. How would things have turned out? Would they be married? Would they have…? Her hips bucked in surprised under her hands as she realized just how much she liked the idea. She no longer cared; she was too close. Too close to care about the what-ifs, too close to care about the consequences of what she was doing right there and then.

"Beetlejuuuuiiiice!" the last was a long, drawn out moan, no longer a whisper and no longer ignorable. How many times had she said _His_ name? She didn't know, didn't remember, and didn't stop what she was doing. Her nightgown had been completely discarded and even the slightly cool breeze from the open window was no longer helping cool the heat that was burning inside of her.

He nearly groaned as he felt his name be called for the third and final time. Then blackness, and he was travelling the void between the worlds.

What he discovered on the other side was the last thing in the world he expected to see. All the same he couldn't help but stare at the gorgeous creature that lay sprawled in a bed of dark satin. Her hair was dark, like the void between worlds, and her skin pale as the moonlight that filtered through the window. She was a being of opposites, her body was long with legs that seemed to go on forever but she still seemed petite with a slim waist, an elfin nose, and small shoulders. _Shit_. He knew who it was. Lydia Deetz. Lydia _oh fuck what happened to that scrawny, depressed kid because the woman in front of me is a fucking Goddess_ Deetz. And _she_ had called _him._

"Beetlejuuuuuice." Now he knew why he'd been more anxious this time than he could ever remember being. With someone calling his name like _that_ it could only mean one thing, and that thing was much more than obvious as her watched the gorgeous creature's hands at play. He watched for a moment in silence, but saying his name like that was dangerous. If he let it be it could cause him a whole night of grief and torture, and besides: he was not a patient poltergeist and Lydia was practically begging him.

It grew marginally colder and Lydia sighed. The night must finally be cooling off. Her arms were thrown above her head and pinned there; Lydia merely arched into the cool air, moaning softly for more. She imagined him chucking above her, that arrogant smirk more pleased than the cat that'd gotten into the milk. His hands had wrapped themselves around her wrists to keep them there and his mouth was trailing cool little kisses down her arm from where he had it pinned. It sent shivers and goosebumps all down her skin even as he reached her neck, where he began an even worse torture with his lips that included his tongue.

"Oh hell, Beet—"

"Don't say tha B-word, kid." His voice was rougher than before, filled with want just like hers.

"_Beej_." She moaned instead. He only chuckled in response. Hands began roaming up her sides even as two hands still held her wrists firmly in place. Funny, how she didn't seem surprised when he'd really shown up. Then again, he eyes were still closed. Did she really think this was still a part of her imagination? Well, that would have to change. The two hands trailing up her sides slid upward to cup her breasts even as he kissed up her jaw to her mouth.

"Lyds." He muttered at the corner of her mouth. She only tried to turn her mouth to meet his and he chuckled again. What a little vixen she'd turned out to be. This was just too good. "Babes, open yer eyes." It was only quiet, but the authority in his voice made her obey. She opened her eyes and gasped and he saw in those dark depths of her brown eyes her attempting to work out what was going on and he grinned wildly at her. She froze on the spot just then, her body trembling beneath his touch, which did not stop. Then she opened her mouth and he knew exactly what was going to come out of it, but he was prepared for that and crushed his mouth to hers in a dizzying kiss, taking advantage of her surprise to slide his tongue to tease hers mercilessly. It wasn't long before she was responding to the kiss with equal enthusiasm and pressing her body into his hands again. He pulled back and something covered her mouth. She glanced down to try and see but saw nothing though she could feel cool flesh against her face. His hand? But they were on her chest and… and holding her wrists? She glanced down to see him grinning at her as his hands roamed her upper body, and she twisted her head to look up and saw nothing holding her wrists, although she still could not move them.

"Maybe I'll letcha see all my tricks one day, Babes, but I don't wanna overwhelm ya on our first time together." Wide eyes slid back to meet glowing green. He saw no other choice and leaned up, the hand slid from her mouth and was replaced by his own mouth as he again kissed her until she was desperate for breath. He pulled away to watch her flushed face in fascination. Damn she was like a fucking furnace to his cold, dead body. He wanted more.

Her eyes had fallen closed finally during the second kiss. She couldn't believe what was happening, and didn't dare open her eyes again as she felt a third set of hands snake their way up her calves, making her flesh tingle with anticipation. His tongue chose that moment to begin an assault on the flesh of her stomach and suddenly she was arching into him all over again and moaning desperately as the third set of hands parted her thighs. His hands began to run all over the inside of her legs, over every part except where she desperately wanted them to go. He knew exactly what she wanted, could feel it in the tremble of her skin beneath his lips and that was when he started to move his mouth downward. Raining his assault lower and lower had her wriggling against him so enticingly her almost said fuck it, but he wanted to make her beg for more. He wanted her to come back only to him, to want nothing else. To need no one else. Ever. The effect she was having on him was strange, and the only way he could describe it was that he wanted her like he wanted Out. Only worse.

His mouth finally came to the place of no return for the both of them. He dipped his head low and tasted her for the first time, and she squeaked and gasped against his hand. His eyes shot up to watch her face in fascination as he did it again. He couldn't take his eyes off her as he did it again and again and again, her reaction just as powerful, if not more so, each time. He was fascinated by why she was reacting so strongly.

God, the things he was doing with his mouth! Lydia didn't know if she could take it, and something told her he wasn't going to stop. She felt his eyes burning their gaze into her face but didn't open her eyes in response. She felt that if she did she might lose it. Everything. Not that she didn't think she was now with the way his tongue was—_oh fuck_. She bit her lip to keep from moaning against his hand and arched. He didn't seem to like the idea of her holding back, however, and a mouth that she would bet anything was invisible growled in her ear.

"Don't hold back, Babes."

She cried out then, loudly into his hand. She didn't have to see it to feel the triumphant smirk that played across his features. His merciless torture continued, and a knot like a slow burn boiled in the pit of her stomach. It built until she felt like she was going to explode and just as she teetered on the edge… he stopped. She sobbed into his hand, squirming desperately for anything that would give her that final push she needed.

"Yer a virgin, ain't ya?" her eyes snapped open in surprise to meet a pair of wild green ones. He was smiling—smiling! Then his body was pressing against hers and even as her body thrust unconsciously against his she realized he was completely naked. Her eyes widened even more as he settled between her thighs and she could feel _him_.

"I asked ya a question, Babes." She focused on him again and nodded. "Aww, ain't that sweet, savin' yerself for me?" he chuckled and she flushed so bright red he thought she was going to turn into some sort of tomato. In truth he was completely happy with the fact. He'd decided he didn't want to share her with anyone, and the fact that she was a virgin only made it all the better. His invisible hand slid from her mouth as he leaned very close, "Good." His mouth connected with hers and he was pleased when she responded almost immediately.

He shifted his hips against her and felt her buck in response. This fuelled him and his positioned himself—better to do this as quickly as possible—and he thrust.

Lydia was so surprised that she actually bit his tongue. He only groaned in delight and held his hips still for her. She mentally shook herself, it had hurt but now that she thought about it all she could concentrate on was how full she felt and how she wanted him to move. Now. She sucked at his tongue, soothing it, and then thrust her hips upwards in an attempt to communicate what she wanted. Beetlejuice understood only entirely well and complied almost immediately, moving slowly within her but soon quickening the pace as they both wanted more and more. Soon he was gripping her hips tightly and she was digging her fingers into his shoulders viciously as they moved together. He'd brought her back to the edge and Lydia swore to herself that if he stopped this time she was going to make sure his soul spent the rest of eternity in the lost souls room.

Beetlejuice had no intention of stopping however, and couldn't now even if he wanted to. His body had taken over control and all he could do was thrust faster and harder with every little moan and cry she let fall from those pale pink lips. Lips that were his. As if to seal his claim he bent down to devour them again, and she responded with the same powerful want as she had all night. It set his blood on fire how she responded to him. He'd never had a lay so good in his life. Which is why he was keeping her. Who knew one little breather had so much spunk and fire?

"Fuck." He growled.

"Beej…!" she cried in agreement as she tightened around him in climax. It was just too much and Beetlejuice's hips grew wild in their movements as he hit the edge running and threw himself off with a roar.

He collapsed on top of her, listening to her pant beneath him. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against him.

"Jesus Christ, Beej." He voice surprised him and he looked up at her with suspicious eyes. "Where the hell did that come from?"

He relaxed, grinning at her, "Ghost with the most, Babes."

**A/N: Whew! Hope you enjoyed that little interruption in my SMN series. What can I say? Smut inspires.**


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